


come away with me

by quisinart4



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Smut, just happily ever after on a beach somewhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 09:35:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15264603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quisinart4/pseuds/quisinart4
Summary: Mike and Ginny enjoy each other, and a beach vacation. Established relationship, future fic, smut and fluff.





	come away with me

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the ever classic Norah Jones song because the line refused to get out of my head. Just some Mike/Ginny fluff and smut. Can't stop writing for these two. :) Please comment if you read! Reviews are so motivating.

"This is the life," Ginny sighs in bliss, her entire body humming with contentment. She's too lazy to even lift her head to look up at Mike, she settles for just tilting it the slightest bit and moving her eyes to his face.

He looks down at her, one hand on her shoulder lazily rubbing circles there with his fingertips, the other high up on her thigh. "Isn't it though?"

They're curled around each other on a large chaise in the backyard of Mike's beach house getaway, a cute little four-bedroom house tucked away in the Oahu shoreline. It's a perfect private location, Ginny can make out a houses further down but has barely seen more than five people in two days. And even then they were just walking or swimming, no one bothered each other or came up for small talk and introductions, everyone here for the same reason: to escape the world and get some sun while they're at it.

His hand wanders up her thigh again, brushing at the seam of her barely-there string bikini, fingers grazing the curve of her ass. He'd been trying to convince her to go nude, but she couldn't make herself, was still always a little sensitive and forever on alert after the nude photo scandal her rookie year. Mike had only said it once teasingly though, he seemed to understand her position on that particular topic, and was forever protective of her, even forcefully removing a guy from a bar last year who'd dared to bring up the photos to Ginny. To make it up to him, Ginny had enlisted Evelyn's help in getting the skimpiest swimsuits that could barely even pass as bikinis, covering just the essentials but basically offering a tease of those goodies as well. Mike was sure loving it.

"I really wanna be having sex with you right now, like the P in V kind, but I'm too lazy to move a muscle," Ginny says into the broad skin of his chest, lips brushing against his skin as she talks. She's so comfortable, even her voice comes out sounding lazy, her words so slow and voice low because it would take too much energy to clear her throat and start the sentence over.

Mike chuckles at that, his one hand dipping from her shoulder to caress the curve of her breast, holding it firmly, rubbing back and forth at her nipple before dropping it again. He sighs. "I feel ya, Baker. I don't wanna lift a finger. If it helps, I'm always having sex with you in my head."

Ginny snorts, shaking her head.

"Yeah, lots of different ways, different positions. We're filthy," he murmurs.

"So not much different than real life?" she says, a blush rising to her cheeks, but not taking back her words. Being with Mike has helped her mature so much sexually, not just because of his vast experience off the field, but because he always put her pleasure and comfort first, always making sure she knew how much she aroused him and how much he enjoyed sex with her. It gave her the confidence she didn't know she needed to truly appreciate and embrace having a sex life.

And boy, have they embraced it the last year they've been together.

He beams down at her, giving her a wink. "Yeah, babe, no different than real life at all. Just you're already naked and spread wide."

Ginny blushes at his description, shaking her head as she slaps at his shoulder. Despite her sexual awakening, his penchant for dirty talk and vivid descriptions still make her blush... and squirm in her seat. It's basically the equivalent to foreplay. "God, you're so hot."

He drops a kiss in her hair, hands tightening around her. "Just tryin' to keep up with you, Baker."

She smiles at the compliment, nuzzling her face in his chest and sighs again in bliss as she raises her chin to the sky. Her body arches towards the afternoon sun, her muscles stretching in silence after hours of beach lounging.

"We should bring Ev and the kids one time. But, well, I'd have to wear real bikinis," she comments.

"Then I don't want them here," Mike says swiftly, his hand palming her ass.

She chuckles. "Hey, that's mean. They'd have fun."

"You know Gabe has a crush on you, right?" Mike says, arching an eyebrow in amusement at her.

"I thought so," she mutters with a frown. "He's been weird the last few months."

"Yeah, Baker, no shit. He can barely look you in the eye anymore."

"Ew," Ginny shudders. "Well, when's it gonna go away?"

"Where you're concerned, probably never," he says.

"Aw, that's sweet, you're sweet," she murmurs, dropping a kiss on his bicep, arching herself towards him so her half-exposed bikini-clad breast rests right at his shoulder. "But what about Marcus? He's totally normal around me."

"Well, one of the Sanders kids was bound to be an idiot, probably all those damn video games," he shakes his head.

"Mike!" she laughs even as she shoves at his chest. "All three kids are brilliant, how dare you. I just need Gabe to snap out of it soon. I miss him."

"Whatever," Mike shrugs. "No kids, the bikinis stay, and so does the opportunity for me to fuck you on every available surface."

She shivers at the memory of their first day here, they'd barely managed to squeeze in a walk on the beach to catch the sunset, they'd been too busy getting horizontal, and vertical, all over the living room and master bedroom.

"Fine," she settles with a sigh. "But maybe next year."

His hand tightens around her, beard nuzzling at her chin for a quick second, she wonders if she imagined it. "Next year. Sounds good."

She angles her head just the slightest to find him staring down at her, his gaze heated. She doesn't blink, keeping their eyes locked, licking her lips unconsciously, her breath already quickening in anticipation. He notices. He notices every single thing about her, all the time.

"Ginny," he growls , "get up here." He pulls her by the waist, smashing his mouth against hers, no time for finesse as he quickly moves aside her bikini bottoms and sinks her on top of him.

She barely has time to wonder when he pulled his swim trunks down but she doesn't even care because this is all she wanted. It's almost dream-like, she feels so lethargic and half-asleep, eyes hazy from the sunshine, the smell of the ocean salt in the air. Mike's only half-hard but she loves it this way, she can feel him growing harder every time she sinks her hips onto him, and it only makes her wetter. He stares up at her with pure awe and it make her feel so powerful, she can't resist snapping her hips harder, making him pant every time she bounces on him.

"Gin, oh god," he moans, and she bends down to kiss him, tongues meeting and mouths open, his hands brushing up and down her back, plastering her against his chest.

When she arches back, she spots the beach house and freezes, looking over her shoulder to make sure there's no one around. She holds herself in place, swallowing back the fear of another photo scandal or a paparazzi shot, and tries to push it aside and focus on Mike.

He senses her stillness immediately and can read her in a second. He grabs the beach blanket from the chair and wraps it around her, covering what they're doing intimately from view. She can no longer feel the sun on her back but she feels safe, feels utterly protected with only Mike's eyes on her, his hands holding her tight.

"You wanna take this inside?" he asks, moving aside her hair from her face.

"No," she says, shaking her head, resuming her rhythm on top of him, reaching for his face, the trust on her face implicit. "I wanna stay here with you."

He smiles at her, that way he does sometimes as if he's still blown away by her. "Yeah? For how long?"

"Forever," she answers, then before she can marvel at how cheesy it sounds, she's kissing him, lips brushing all over his face, his beard, his temple, his cheeks.

It must not have sounded cheesy to Mike because he kisses her back passionately, his hips thrusting to match her own, no longer content to let her set a leisurely pace.

Ginny moans, arching her head back, nails digging into his shoulders. "Mike, I'm- I'm-"

"I know, babe, let it go, I'm right here," he urges.

"I need a little more..." She trails off, knowing he'll know what he needs better than she does. That overactive brain of hers sometimes gets in the way right when she feels she's close, but he's there to help her, push her over the edge and force her to take her pleasure before he does.

"I got you, Ginny," he murmurs against her neck, his beard scratching against her collarbone. It feels amazing, as does when his big fingers reach between them, rubbing at her so forcefully that she nearly shrieks in surprise. But it's exactly what she needs because with one more push of her hips, she falls apart on him, arms wrapped tight around his neck, legs going numb, brain going blissfully free. She moans in delight, and holds him tight as he finishes, smiling at the litany of curse words he lets loose, the way his hands dig into her waist as if holding her close to assure himself she won't leave until he's done. She strokes his hair and rests her forehead against his own, waits until he finishes panting though his orgasm and meets her gaze.

When he does, he just grunts, not one for words right after he's been well-fucked.

She giggles, stroking at his beard, watching his mouth twitch up in a smile. "This is the best belated birthday present ever."

He clears his throat a few times before speaking, voice low and sexy from the orgasm he just had. "Well, it wouldn't have been late if somebody's team hadn't made it to post-season."

She rolls her eyes and sighs. "We didn't make it very far."

"Hey, none of that, I'm still in you, focus on me," he orders, snapping her out of her disappointment and making her laugh. "Next year, Baker, there's always next year."

"Yup," she shrugs. One thing she's learned about baseball is let the wins linger to motivate you but drop the losses when it comes to the offseason or you'll never enjoy any of your days off. And in baseball, you only get so many.

"So another offseason," she tells him, remembering last year's when they'd started this relationship, that tentative first date, the way they couldn't stop staring at each other all night long, how they could barely make it into Mike's bedroom, how that first orgasm had been such a goddamn _relief_ of pent up anticipation and arousal. "I'm all yours until Spring Training."

"Yeah, you are," he says, entwining their fingers and kissing the engagement ring he'd placed on her finger a mere week ago. It still takes him by surprise to see the ring on her finger and not in that velvet box in his drawer where he'd had it hidden for months. Yeah, months. He just knew. Having the guts to ask her the question though, that took a lot longer.

He moves aside the beach blanket, adjusting their swimsuits, fingertips lingering a little too long over the softness of her skin. "First, we eat."

"Each other?" she questions, smirking when he looks her way in surprise. "Oh, sorry, food."

"Well, yeah, Baker," Mike comments, "I used a couple thousand calories fucking you senseless. I need a burger." He tosses her a sundress from her beach bag.

"It's your dirty mind, it's contagious!" She slips the dress on, and moves to his side, sliding her hand into his, resting her chin on his shoulder. "You've ruined me."

He pushes aside her sweaty hair and drops a kiss on her lips, smirking at her faux complaint. "Nah, that's impossible. You're perfect."

As he pulls her forward to walk towards the house, she tugs him back, lifting their joined hands to kiss his, watching the diamond on her finger sparkle in the Hawaiian sunshine.

"Hey, I meant it earlier. All this," she looks around at the beach and then back to him, "it's the best. Best boyfriend ever," she tells him, punctuating each word with a kiss on his lips.

"That's fiancé, Baker," he says, nodding towards the ring on her finger. "Remember, you were dumb enough to say yes."

She smiles so wide that it mesmerizes him, that his hand tightens around hers and he just wants to drag her down to the beach chair for another round. Her eyes twinkle with happiness as she runs her fingers through his beard and he takes a second to appreciate the feel of the engagement ring, can't wait to put a wedding band next to it.

"That's right, _fiancé_ ," she repeats huskily. "Soon-to-be husband."

Mike meets her eyes at the word and is flooded with emotion again, at how god damn lucky he is that she said yes.

"I like the sound of that," she murmurs, a flush rising on her cheeks, the look in her eyes almost dream-like and in a haze, that Mike can't resist running a hand through her hair to ground her back to reality, and to him.

It's easy to get lost in this postcard perfect location - the crisp blue sky, the sparkling clear water, the rays of sunshine lighting up the entire beach and effusing warmth all the way down to your pores.

But he just wants to get lost in her every day for the rest of his life.

He moves a step closer, can't resist dropping a kiss on her cheek and pausing at her ear to say, "Yeah, I like the sound of it too, soon-to-be wife."

Her hands tighten around him in pure joy and she drops a kiss on his lips, their teeth knocking together, they're grinning so wide. She laughs as she breaks away, shaking her head in happiness. "I love you."

His eyes twinkle in pleasure, like they always do when she says it, as if he still can't believe it. God, the way he looks at her sometimes, it makes her feel so damn _special_ , something so much more personal and intimate than being the first woman pitcher in the big leagues ever did. Only he can make her feel that way.

"You're not so bad yourself."

"Whatever, you're obsessed with me," she says, hip checking him.

"Oof, not the hips, Baker, you know I'm fragile."

She smothers a laugh against his bare chest as she wraps her arms around his waist, not letting him go as they make their way up to the house.


End file.
